Ok, for the sake of furthering the plot, I had to make a break in the Legolas/Kalen storyline. Don't worry; it will be resumed quickly enough. Love to you all!

A dark cloud had descended upon the town of Fornost; the cup of elements had reached the hand of Valdrin, and he began to plot his evil ascension to power. He sat on a throne of his own making, gazing at the large silver cup and marveling at the wonderful authority it possessed. Running an opened hand through his slick black hair, he leaned forward and smiled. He would have his reward and exact his vengeance on the fair folk of Middle Earth. Those who had laughed at him for his ambitions would laugh no more, for he would be the one that held the winning cards in the end. A fire anew blazed within the pools of his sapphire eyes. Yes, he would see that all the elves paid for their insolence toward his family line. His father's father had once served Sauron, but Valdrin would serve none. His dark thoughts filled him, and the heavy footsteps of an Orc pledged to his service echoed in the hall, breaking Valdrin's evil deliberations.

"My Lord, we have received word that the Uruk leader Morgluk is dead. Word from his company is that he took hostage an elven warrior from the colonies of Taureliloomis. This was several weeks ago."

"Taureliloomis? Is that not a colony of women?"

The Orc nodded his head and his red tongue darted across his black lips.

"Aye, Lord Valdrin. However, it is more than simply a colony of women. It is a colony of elven women. The hostage escaped: undoubtedly the assassin of Morgluk."

Valdrin's eyes lit up with delight. Elven women would make fine prizes indeed, and he would profit immensely from their sale.

"See to it that these women are remunerated for their thievery. None take what belongs to me without a price."

The Orc knew what Valdrin meant. An attack on the city would be planned and carried out, and the women would be rounded up like beasts for the slaughter. Once broken in spirit, they would be sold to whatever scoundrel wished to pay the highest price.

"There is one more matter that begs for your attention, my lord. We came upon a dwarf while performing an assessment of the town's border defenses. Narblok insists that it is a dwarvish female, but I fail to see any femininity."

"You are bringing much delight to my day. A dwarven woman would demand a king's ransom simply for their rarity. Bring the dwarf before me now."

The servant Orc called to another that stood waiting just outside the doors of the hall. The sounds of struggle could be heard as the female dwarf was dragged into the hall to be inspected by Valdrin. In all appearances, the dwarf was as all dwarfs are: short in stature, heavy of build, and thick of hair, but upon closer inspection, Valdrin spied the subtle features of a female.

"What is your name, dwarf, and why have you come to Fornost?"

The female dwarf snorted and spat on the floor. She would reveal nothing to him, no matter the consequences.

"My name is my own and my affairs within the town are mine alone to know."

Valdrin rose from his seat and strode toward her. His imposing size startled her and caused her to shrink back a bit. The man smiled, bearing his straight white teeth. Had it not been for her harsh treatment, she would have supposed him to be a kind man by that smile. Raising a heavy hand, he struck her and sent her to the floor. A trickle of blood trailed down the side of her split lip and a few strands of her dark brown hair stuck to her face.

"When I request an answer to my questions, I had better receive one. Next time, I will not be so kind. Take this thing from my sight and alert me when you have returned from Taureliloomis. I would have them all, but if you must kill some of them, then you must. Bring me only the fairest or I will have your head, Durzbog!"

Durzbog shuddered at his master's threat, for he knew full well that Valdrin meant every word he said and on no account were his threats ever empty. Bowing and then rising, the Orc signaled to his inferior to remove the dwarf and then made his way to gather all available troops. There would be an attack on the elven city of Taureliloomis: one they would never see coming.

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It all seemed like a bad dream; a dream that kept her in it's evil grasp and crushed all hopes of waking. The dwarven woman stared at her captors as they dragged her toward the stone steps that led down into the dungeon. Tears threatened to escape from her eyes, but she bit down hard, trying to keep her strength and dignity intact.

Ute' Oakenarms: that had been her name to the kind townspeople of Fornost. How had the town changed so quickly? There were so many questions that plagued her mind, but one thing she knew for sure: she had to escape. This man Valdrin was evil, and everything he touched would wither and die. If death were waiting for her, it would have a long wait, for she was not ready to leave the earth yet and had many goals unaccomplished. Her mind was racing a million times its usual pace. She inhaled deeply, trying to regain her calm. The stench of the Orcs was almost unbearable and the foul odor wafted through her nostrils causing her to gag in response. How would she ever get out of this hellhole? She was greatly outnumbered, and an attempt to escape would surely end in her death. There had to be a way. Whispering to herself, she pleaded with whatever entity would listen.

'Do not leave me here to perish in squalor, I beg you. If you are listening, please send aid to release me that I might fulfill whatever destiny I set out to achieve. This I beg of you.'

Had her words fallen idly to the wind, or had an unseen spirit heard her pleas? Her heart thumped wildly in anticipation. Deep in her heart she felt she would be saved, but by what means would her savior come? Would it be diminutive and unexpected or immense and bold? Only time would tell, and for the moment, Valdrin appeared to be the only one with time in his favor. Soon she would have company, and her heart wept for the elves of Taureliloomis. The Orcs would kill many of them simply for sport, and Ute' knew the sorrow of losing loved ones was a great pain. It was a pain she wished on none; not even the elves.